


Altissia in the Rain

by Umi_no_arawashi



Series: Rain in summer [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, Jealousy, Kissing in the Rain, M/M, Mentions Of M/F Sex, Outdoor Sex, PWP, Rain, bisexuals united, gladio still thinks he's straight, ignis' evening goes from pleasant to smoking hot in about ten seconds, so much rain, well perhaps not by the end of this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 08:51:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14305140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Umi_no_arawashi/pseuds/Umi_no_arawashi
Summary: Companion fic/sequel to Lestallum in summer but can probably be read independentlyGladio puts his finger on what has been bothering him about Ignis’ conquests.





	Altissia in the Rain

They’re all a few weeks older and, perhaps, a little wiser, though Gladio wouldn’t bet on it.

He’s fought Gilgamesh and won a new scar, and regained a little of the confidence that Ravus shattered so easily. Ignis has finally forgiven him for leaving. For what he called an absolute dereliction of duty.

Noctis seems a little better. He took Jared’s death hard. Insomnia had been far away. This was someone he’d just talked to a few days earlier. It affected him more than he let on. But he’s been smiling more these days.

And Altissia… Altissia is everything everyone ever said it would be. Gorgeous, old, the shine of water and smell of the sea everywhere. A maze of passageways and bridges, statues, of ancient ochre peeling off walls, of white columns and marble stairs.

Gladio is glad they have a few days to wait before their meeting with First Secretary Claustra. Altissia is a place he’s always wanted to visit. Accordan literature is amongst his favourite. And apart from the few hunts they’ve taken on to help out Weskham, this is a peaceful place. So much so that they’ve all let their guard down and are treating this as a vacation, each pursuing their own interests 

Noct and Prompto have run off. Their plans for the afternoon was to go hunting for the perfect flavour of ice cream, and they have a whole list of places they want to try. Then they’re heading to the Arena Galviano to waste more of the group’s hard-earned gil on the fights.

Meanwhile, Ignis and Gladio have gone to imbibe some culture. Gladio loves going to museums with Ignis. He’s wonderful to be with when looking at art. He doesn’t lecture, doesn’t interrupt Gladio’s concentration to give his opinion if it’s not wanted. Best of all, he doesn’t assume that just because Gladio is a big, muscular guy, he doesn’t understand art, or needs help appreciating it. So they stood near each other, in companionable silence, admiring, discussing some of the pieces in quiet, hushed tones.

They’ve had a pretty great afternoon, all things considered. And now the light is fading. It’s starting to get dark. The air is hot and muggy, dark ominous clouds amassing on the horizon. Gladio feels too hot, his shirt sticky with sweat.

“I think I’m going to go back to the hotel for a shower,” he says to Ignis. “Are you staying here?”

“Yes.” Ignis, of course, looks cool as a cucumber, not one hair out of place. “There’s a bookstore I wanted to visit, just over there.”

“Cool,” smiles Gladio. “You’ll tell me what kind of stuff they have.”

There’s no hurry. He’ll have all day to visit the bookstore tomorrow if it’s worth it. He wants to enjoy these precious moments of absolute freedom, not try to cram everything into one day. He has a feeling they won’t get many days like this in the future. Because once Noctis gains the power of the Hydrean, then what? They’ll have to find some way to regain the crystal. And that won’t be easy.

“Do you want to meet up for dinner, or…?” Gladio leaves the end of the sentence open. He wouldn’t mind finding his own fun tonight. The girls here are smoking hot. He’s noticed a few bars where he could hang out and see if he can’t find someone who’s interested.

Ignis smiles. “No, not if you have other plans. I’m sure I can make my own entertainment.”

* * *

When he comes out of the hotel, it’s already raining. But it’s warm, and Gladio is grateful for the rain. It means the end of that heavy, stifling weather that makes him feel a little unsettled, a little on edge.

He wanders around, aimlessly. He finds a nice, friendly bar, has a bite to eat, a few drinks, chats with girls. They’re friendly, wonderfully attractive. He’s sure one of them is interested in him. But he doesn’t feel it tonight, for some reason. So he finishes his third beer and leaves.

There’s a weird kind of longing in his heart, an ache. It’s probably just the weather, or the knowledge that they’re on borrowed time here, just waiting for disaster to strike once more. The rain has gotten worse while he was in the bar. It’s pouring down now, pelting the ground in with a rhythmic sound that should feel soothing. But the storm hasn’t quite broken yet. Thunder still rumbles darkly in the clouds, like a promise of things to come.

He walks aimlessly through covered arcades and bridges. One of the nice things about Altissia is that no matter how hard it’s raining, you can always find some cover. If he’s lucky, he might even make it back to the hotel dry as a bone.

A bit further down, there’s a couple who don’t seem to be minding the rain too much. In a dark corner, near an embankment, they’re making out like their lives are depending on it, ignoring the downpour. 

At first, Gladio smiles, because there’s something sweet about that. A couple in love, under the warm summer rain. At least some people are having fun. He doesn’t mean to look, but something catches his eye.

The metallic glint of glasses.

And he stops suddenly. The shadows make it hard to see, but this is someone he’d recognise anywhere.

This is Ignis, being pressed against the wall by a great behemoth of a guy, all gym muscles and cheap tattoos.

And there is a part of Gladio that is, quite frankly, offended. Because they all have something in common, the guys Ignis picks up.That guy in Lestallum. The hunter Ignis managed to pull at the Meldacio HQ. And now this asshole. 

And it is pissing Gladio off.

And the way that guy is pressing Ignis into the wall… it’s infuriating. He’s being careless and rough, as though Ignis was just some pretty boy that he can treat any way he likes. And when he tangles his hand uncaringly into Ignis’ hair and pulls, forcing his mouth open so he can kiss him,  
Gladio sees red. 

Pushing himself up with one hand, he vaults over the parapet, landing next to the couple. One step, and he’s pulling the guy off of Ignis by the collar of his shirt.

“Fuck off,” he snarls. The guy stumbles, scrambles up, and runs off. He’s lucky Gladio didn’t throw him in the canal. Asshole.

Gladio can’t help but grin. For a second, anyway. 

“Gladio.” Ignis doesn’t sound amused at all. He sounds furious. “What the fuck was that?”

Gladio turns slowly to face Ignis. Yes, he’s absolutely livid. 

“I… didn’t like the way that guy was holding you,” he says, knowing how stupid he sounds. It sounds like something he would say to Iris.

“What?” Ignis’ eyes narrow.

“I just… listen, I didn’t mean to… I know it’s gonna sound dumb, but that guy was twice your size.”

Ignis sighs impatiently. “Gladio, for fuck’s sake, don’t you think I can take care of myself?”

“Well…” Gladio says, sheepishly, because he’s being ridiculous. 

Ignis looks at him like he’s an absolute moron, which to be fair, he kinda is, and flicks his wrist lightly. Blue, crystalline light plays in his hand for a second, the shadow of a dagger hovers over his palm. “I _think_ I can manage.” He says drily. “Besides, I don’t know what you think you saw, but nobody asked you for anything. We’re both consenting adults.”

“I didn’t like it,” he growls.

“You didn’t like it?” Ignis scowls. “Well, believe it or not, I’m not asking for your opinion, you ape. I don’t care if you have a problem with my sex life. It’s none of your business.”

“It’s none of my business? Really?”

Gladio knows he’s pushing it, now. Knows he’s toeing a dangerous line. But he doesn’t care. It’s too late. He’s already made a fool of himself, he’s not going to stop now.

He takes one step towards Ignis, put both hands on the wall, on both sides of his head. Ignis is boxed in, and looks mad as hell. But he’s not saying anything.

“Then answer me this, mister advisor. Why that guy? Of all the men in this town, why did you pick that one?”

“I don’t know what you mean, Gladiolus,” says Ignis with that look again, the one that says he thinks Gladio is the stupidest person alive.

Except Gladio thinks that this time, it’s an act. That Ignis knows exactly what he means. But that he thinks Gladio won’t have the balls to spell it out.

He’s wrong.

“I have no doubt you can get whomever you like. So why did you pick that guy, then, out of everyone in Altissia? The big guy with all the tattoos? Just like that hunter. Or that guy back in Lestallum. Why those guys?”

Ignis looks up at him with an enigmatic expression.

“Maybe I have a type,” he murmurs.

It’s raining harder than ever and Ignis’ hair is absolutely drenched. It falls, plastered against his forehead. There are drops of water on his glasses.

Something snaps inside of Gladio and he catches Ignis’ wrists in his hands, pinning him to the wall, and he tilts his head down and he kisses Ignis, hard. For a second, he feels Ignis tense up, as though he was about to fight him, and then he _melts_ against him, kissing him back.

His lips are strong, rougher than a girl’s. He smells of rain, coffee, and a hint of aftershave. He tastes of expensive wine. His skin has a hint of stubble, a scratchiness Gladio is wholly unaccustomed to. He likes girls, pretty, curvy girls with soft skin and sweet-smelling hair, and Ignis is none of that. Logically, Gladio should hate it. 

He loves it. He can’t get enough of the way Ignis kisses him, like he’s hungry, like he’s famished, like he’s been waiting for that all his life. He lets go of Ignis’ wrists and grabs his face, pulling him even closer, feeling the texture of his skin with his fingers like he wants to memorise it. Ignis’ hands are on him now, around his waist, pulling him closer.

He feels a shiver go through him as their hips collide. He can _feel_ Ignis against him, he can feel the hard line of his erection like a burning brand against his hip. That’s new as well. He doesn’t give himself too much time to think about it. He reaches down between them, touches him through the thin fabric, soaked with rain. He feels rock hard under his fingers, and when Gladio runs his fingers along his length, feeling the shape of him, Ignis moans into Gladio’s mouth. His eyes are shut tight. His hands clenched, digging into Gladio’s skin almost painfully.

And Gladio has to stop for a second, because he can’t believe _he_ did that, that Ignis is that hard, that turned on just because of him. He feels a rush of stupid, unconscionable pride.

Ignis looks at him with concern on his face. He thinks Gladio is hesitating. That he’s having second thoughts. Gladio shakes his head, once, stoops to kiss him again. He doesn’t quite know what he’s feeling, but it’s not regret.

His hands are on Ignis again, feeling his cock through his pants. He can’t get enough of touching him, so hard and warm under his fingers. The shape of him, so different from his own. He wants more. 

He fumbles with the button of Ignis’ trousers, unzips him. Slips his hand inside his boxers. Ignis is silk over steel, smooth skin over hard ridges. His pubic hair feels like rough fur. Ignis hisses at the contact of skin on skin. Gladio strokes him, once, twice, the way he likes to touch himself. The angle is different, but the gesture is familiar. But it’s not enough, not nearly enough.

He’s not even thinking about his own need, hot and heavy between his legs. He wants to see Ignis. To _taste_ him.

Gladio falls to his knees. He doesn’t care that the ground is drenched, that his jeans will get ruined from kneeling in a puddle. None of that matters right now.

Now he can see Ignis’ erection straining against the black, silky material. There’s a wet dark spot near the tip of Ignis’ cock, and he presses his mouth against it hungrily. Ignis smells like soap, like sex, dark and enticing. There’s a hint of salt under Gladio’s tongue as he mouths at the tip through the fabric.

Ignis’ hand falls to his shoulder. A warning gesture. He’s giving Gladio an out, if he wants to take it. A chance to pull back. But there’s no doubt in Gladio’s mind. Not a single hint of hesitation. He knows he wants this. He doesn’t care that they’re outside, in the street. It’s late and the rain is pouring down harder than before. There’s a flash of light, and almost immediately after, a loud crack of thunder. The storm is close. No one has any business in the streets, apart from the two of them.

He pulls down Ignis’ trousers, frees his erection.

He feels a deep shiver of arousal go through him at the sight. It makes his head spin for a second. He’s never really seen another guy’s dick that close before.

But Ignis is beautiful. That’s a weird thought to have, but it’s true. He’s so hard, his cock flush against his belly. Long and straight, flushed a deep red with blood, with a curve that Gladio can’t help but think is elegant, somehow. And that’s a strange word to be applying to someone’s dick, maybe, but it seems appropriate.

Gladio feels uncertain for a second, because he’s never actually done what he’s about to do. But it doesn’t matter. He knows what feels good. He knows what he wants to do. He bends his neck, slowly, almost reverently. It feels a bit like that, like something holy.

He swipes his tongue over the tip of Ignis’ cock. Ignis feels silky smooth, swollen. From this close, he can see a clear pearl of liquid gathering at the slit, and his tongue darts out to capture it. The taste hits him, salt, a slight bitterness that’s both familiar and strange. It’s intoxicating.

He opens his mouth to take Ignis in. Ignis is far from small, but it’s easier he thought it would be to keep his teeth out of the way. He wraps his lips around him, strokes him with his tongue in a swirling pattern. He’s not about to try to take Ignis in too deep. He suspects that takes practice. But he knows this feels good as well. He bobs his head up and down, experimentally. He can definitely do this, he thinks.

Ignis isn’t saying anything. He’s taking short, hitched, halting breaths that tell Gladio he can’t be doing that bad of a job. 

He looks up, because he’s curious. Ignis is biting the back of his hand. His head is thrown back, exposing the long lines of his neck. Rain is pouring down his face in soft rivulets that look almost like tears.

He’s beautiful, like that. How come Gladio had never realised before how beautiful he is, like a statue, like a god?

Gladio starts moving again, stroking Ignis with his mouth. It’s a lot of work, and not entirely unlike going down on a girl. It’s all about reading the subtle clues that tell him he’s on the right track, that this particular spot feels good, that he should keep doing that one thing with his tongue that makes Ignis hiss between his teeth. He has to come up for air a few times, because he’s not entirely sure how to breathe like that, with his mouth full of Ignis’ cock. His chin is absolutely covered in drool, mixing with the rain.

Ignis makes a strangled sound, halfway between a sigh and a groan, and the hand on Gladio’s shoulder tenses. Ignis is trying to push him away. Gladio knows that means he’s close, that he’s warning him in case he doesn’t want that.

But Gladio doesn’t move away. Instead, he increases his speed, less careful now. He lets Ignis in too deep on some of his strokes, and it triggers his gag reflex, but he fights it, and it passes. He tightens his hold around the base of Ignis’ cock, strokes him hard in time with his movements.

He feels Ignis tense up, his cock swelling even harder in his mouth. Gladio is urging him on with all his being, willing him to come. He feels Ignis pulse in his mouth, once, twice, semen hit his throat. He swallows reflexively, as much as he can, choking a little.

It’s overwhelming, the fact that it’s Ignis, that’s he’s the one who made him come. He feels proud, but also strange way, also humbled.

He strokes him with his tongue, gently, few more times, because he knows he likes it when someone does that to him. Likes the edge of overstimulation, not too much but just enough.

He stands up, his knees protesting a little. That ground was not the most comfortable thing to kneel on. 

He looks at Ignis, Ignis who hasn’t said a word since this whole thing started. His eyes are wide, dark, pupils blown out. And now Gladio is feeling slightly scared. The enormity of what he’s just done hits him. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to contemplate all the implications of his actions. The irreparable damage he might have done to their friendship.

He’s not even sure if friendship is the right word anymore.

The rain has stopped. Summer storms are like that, sudden, overwhelming, over in an instant. 

Gladio doesn’t know what to say. He’s afraid of what Ignis might say. 

Ignis doesn’t say anything.

Ignis puts his arms around him and pulls him close. There’s a soft, vulnerable expression in his eyes he doesn’t think he’s ever seen before. Ignis strokes his cheek gently, delicately, and kisses him.

There’s no hunger to the kiss anymore, no desperation. Just something tender, worshipful, that make all Gladio’s doubts disappear.

Just love.

 

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> As ever, comments and kudos are love, and make the author go kweh


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